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СКАЧАТЬ eyebrows arched as he realized what she was doing. Smiling, he said, “Alas, I was in Fuchsburg when my mother remarried. I was not afforded a chance to meet Auntie Ekaterine in person until last year, when she and Mother went to France.”

      “Well, I am most pleased that both Princesses Shashavani have seen fit to join us in England for a time,” Lady Eleanor said brightly. Suddenly a thought occurred to her and, in a mild panic, she grabbed at the dance card dangling from his wrist. “Oh no! What is the next dance?”

      “Umm…” Friedrich said.

      “Polka, I believe,” Ekaterine answered.

      Lady Eleanor looked at her dance card and went pale.

      “I do apologize, please forgive me,” she said. “I must return to the ballroom.”

      “Good evening, Lady Eleanor,” Ekaterine said, nodding in acknowledgement.

      “Good evening,” Friedrich echoed, bowing.

      When Lady Eleanor had gone, he turned to Ekaterine and studied her, eyes twinkling, his mouth smiling. Ekaterine caught his gaze lingering upon her lips, her throat, her bare shoulders, and upon her bosom exposed by her gown’s décolletage—she could not say that she approved of how revealing these English evening dresses were. But mostly, he looked into her eyes, finding there something that pleased him.

      It was the same way that he had looked at her in France: admiring her, desiring her, intrigued by her. The ardor of it all made Ekaterine smile a little. He was so very handsome—just like his father, Varanus had said. And charming, if brash and impulsive. And she wasn’t really his aunt, not even in-law.… But no, he was so very young compared to her, whatever her appearance might imply. And he had the same fiery shade of auburn hair as Varanus, his mother, who was as a sister to Ekaterine.

      No, it was simply impossible, unthinkable, however flattering.

      “I do believe she means to marry you,” Ekaterine said, more than a little amused at the idea.

      Friedrich answered with an especially polite and genteel sigh of disinterest.

      “Yes, I know,” he said. “Her father’s idea, no doubt. I suppose that socially it is a rather good match. She may be English, but she is the daughter of an earl while I am merely a baron.”

      “And do not forget,” Ekaterine added, “that the Wodesleys are a particularly distinguished family as earls go.”

      “Quite,” Friedrich said, noncommittally.

      Ekaterine ate a bite of sandwich before adding, “It must never come to pass. It would be a terrible match.”

      “You truly think so?” This seemed to relieve Friedrich.

      “Beyond a doubt,” Ekaterine said. “I fear the girl lacks a certain severity that I suspect a man like you desires in a wife.”

      “Well, we are of a mind on this point,” Friedrich said. “The woman I am to marry must have singular qualities.”

      Friedrich turned sideways, as if to regard something of interest on the refreshment table, when really it allowed him to take another step closer to her. Ekaterine felt like shaking her head at him. He really was incorrigible.

      “Singular qualities?” Ekaterine asked. She turned in place to exchange nods with a passing acquaintance and used the opportunity to move a pace back from Friedrich, counteracting his advance. “What sort of singular qualities?”

      Friedrich smiled. He had noticed her maneuver but did not seem angered by it.

      “Subtlety,” he said, “grace, intellect, and wit. And above all, a challenge.” After allowing the statement to linger for a moment, he changed the subject of conversation: “I was not aware that you were a lady.” He seemed rather amused by the revelation. “Though I did suspect it. I knew that you were no servant.”

      “How clever of you,” Ekaterine said.

      “Why would one do such a thing?” Friedrich asked.

      What to tell him…?

      Ekaterine smiled slightly and replied, “A private joke at the expense of the French.”

      “One can never have too many of those,” Friedrich said. “And how do you find yourselves here, in England? I would have thought my mother would wish to return home to Russia straight away, especially in light of.…”

      His voice trailed off, but Ekaterine knew something of what he meant: the kidnapping, when a group of ruffians in service to the des Louveteaux had assaulted Varanus, gunned her down, and dragged Friedrich away to be sacrificed in some pit beneath their manor house. He had nearly been killed, and Varanus would have died from her injuries had she been mortal. After the night’s conclusion, Ekaterine suspected, both Varanus and Friedrich had been keen to get the other safely back home. It was not at all reassuring to be reunited with one’s long lost mother or son, only to have them either kidnapped or nearly killed the same evening.

      But concern went both ways.

      “I should ask you the same question,” Ekaterine said. “I was there when your mother put you on the train to Paris. From there, you were to return to Germany where you would be safely away from the reach of the des Louveteaux. Your mother will not be pleased to learn of this.”

      Friedrich shifted his stance uncomfortably, but he kept his smile and did not relent.

      “In Paris, I realized that it did not please me to return to Germany,” he said. “And so, I decided to travel.”

      “Where did you go?” Ekaterine asked.

      “I went to America,” Friedrich said. “It was…interesting.”

      “Interesting?”

      Ekaterine could tell that he was hiding something.

      “Yes, interesting,” Friedrich repeated. He did not elaborate. Instead, looking over Ekaterine’s shoulder at something behind her, he added, “And I met some very interesting people. Including.…” He made a beckoning motion and called, “Doctor Thorndyke, a word! There is someone I should like you to meet!”

      Ekaterine turned slightly and looked behind her. She saw a middle-aged man in evening dress, his hair slightly graying, his face adorned with a Van Dyke beard and moustache of tremendous size. The man stood just inside the door, looking awkward and more than a little out of place. But at the sight of Friedrich waving, his face lit up, and he hurried to join them, walking with a strange little waddle made by shuffling his feet.

      What a peculiar person, Ekaterine thought.

      “Doctor Thorndyke,” Friedrich said, “I’m glad that I found you. May I introduce Princess Ekaterine Shashavani?”

      “Uh…oh!” Thorndyke adjusted a pair of small spectacles that sat perched upon his nose. Clicking his heels together, he bowed stiffly, which somehow involved bobbing his head. “A most distinct honorable pleasure, if I may say so.”

      Ekaterine smiled politely at him and flashed Friedrich a curious look. Thorndyke СКАЧАТЬ